Down in Mexico
by Captain Hilts
Summary: Before the A-Team came to Mexico, before Captain H.M. Murdock finally flew the coop, he had a plan- the original pilot of that helicopter was his ticket to freedom. All he needed was a little luck and a window of oppertunity...
1. Meet and Greet

**Author's note: Hello there! Sorry for the crappy summary, haha. I'm not really sure where this idea came from, but it showed a bit of potential. Hope you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated, as I do hope to continue, but I'll just go away to get on with the reading. :)**

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The helicopter was an HU Iroquois, a "Huey", just like the ones they used to fly in Vietnam. Painted red and white that looked more like orange and grey after years of use, it sat on the helipad, a misfit. The rotors creaked as a breeze pushed across the empty valley where the Santa Rosa Hospital was nestled. Sunlight washed the roof in a dusty yellow glow and the weather vane groaned above as it turned with the wind.

The Huey's pilot pushed open the emergency door leading out to the helipad and smiled lovingly at the helicopter.

"Hello, honey."

The smile vanished once the breeze carried with it a voice from the cockpit. A fiercely protective instinct rose up within the pilot; someone was visible through the dusty glass of the windshield, flailing around in the seat of _her_ helicopter.

She dropped the tool box as she ran. Everything spilled out in a wave of silver, but she ignored it. As she got closer, she could see it was a man, who was shouting to a non-existent co-pilot when she finally hopped in the back, breathless and already sweating from the heat. He was taller than she realized and probably stronger too, but none of that mattered to her then.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The man turned sharply in his seat, and the soundproof headphones he was wearing- _her _headphones- went lopsided. He was lean and somewhat long-limbed, though he seemed to fit comfortably behind the controls of the Huey. Too well in fact, for her liking. His grin was a little crooked and contrasted greatly with her current scowl.

"Saw her sitting off all lonely- figured she needed somebody to love," he finally replied.

His voice had a distinct Southern twang. Her frown deepened as she yanked the headphones from his head.

"She's got nobody to love but me, pal."

His grin remained, even as he rubbed his ears. "Aw, I think we can share, _muchacha_."

"Carrie Reynolds," she corrected him, "And this is my chopper."

He just looked at her, no doubt scanning her skinny frame and the ratty clothes she wore. She didn't look like a pilot and realized that, but quite truthfully, he didn't fit the part either. To her surprise, he held out his hand.

"H.M. Murdock. Nice to meet you, Miss Reynolds."

That smile plastered to his face was close to loony; something to compliment the Woody Woodpecker t-shirt he was wearing. Carrie puffed out an impatient breath and shook his hand.

"So did they give you this rust bucket or did you ask for it?"

"I asked," Carrie replied, a bit snarkier than she'd meant, "Now would you please get out?"

Murdock leaned back on the bar forming both pilot seats and took a final glance around the cockpit, chewing on his lip. He finally nodded and Carrie rolled her eyes.

"Sure. I'm not gonna be rude to a _chiquita_ like you, even if this chopper's mine, too."

He popped open the cockpit's door and slid out as if it were a practiced motion. Carrie frowned and leaned out of the cabin to speak to him.

"What are you talking about?"

Murdock laughed and little crow's feet appeared at the corners of his eyes. He pointed to the chopper as another breeze snapped at his clothes and hair. The rotors creaked again and something popped in the dormant engine.

"This little birdy's been here awhile, but I remember the day she showed up…" He shook his head and sighed. "Love at first sight."

Carrie folded her arms defiantly. "Well, her heart belongs to me now, Mr. Murdock."

He laughed again and she knew what he was thinking. She was sure he didn't believe she could fly it- most everyone else didn't. Before he could speak, the emergency door groaned open once again, directing their attention to three doctors, each with a different look of concern across their faces.

"Could you tell them I wasn't trying to fly it?" Murdock asked her, clearly annoyed.

Carrie frowned confusedly as the doctors approached, hopping down from the Huey's cabin.

"Mr. Murdock!" a woman gasped, "Thank God we found you."

The other two rushed to his side and began to steer him back toward the doorway. The woman turned to Carrie and squeezed her arm.

"Thank you for finding him. He's been trying to get in that chopper since we got it months ago."

"He wasn't…trying to fly it," Carrie said, still frowning. Up ahead, she could see Murdock flash the thumbs up sign.

The woman laughed, as if she didn't believe her. "Of course he wasn't. Thanks again."

Carrie watched, transfixed, as they led Murdock from the roof. He reached for the ball cap tucked into the back pocket of his cargo shorts and secured it on his head, successfully holding down his unkempt hair. Carrie's expression lifted into one of shock once she saw the screaming eagle insignia of the 101st Airborne across front. Murdock looked back at her and waved.

"Nice meeting you!"

Carrie barely managed wiggling her fingers in reply. The doctors had guided Murdock away and the door was beginning to close behind them. She looked back at the Huey, still clutching the headphones in her hand. The door snapped closed and she turned back around.

"The 101st Airborne Division…"

Cursing under her breath, Carrie ran for the door and yanked it open. They were already gone from sight and she hurried down the stairs, the cord of her headphones cracking against the steps as she went. The hospital was quiet as usual, and she felt like a complete stranger amidst all the white coats with her messy blonde hair and dirty clothes. Carrie weaved through the doctors carefully, occasionally sputtering a few words of Spanish before Murdock's laugh echoed down the hallway. She saw a group herding him into a nearby room and hurried toward them, her sneakers squealing on the linoleum. By the time she arrived, he was already behind the door, unapproachable. Both orderlies gave her a strange look each before saying,

"Visiting hours are over, Miss."

"Oh, okay," she replied absently, gazing through the window in the door. "I'm just looking."

More strange glances. They left her to stand in front of the door, still searching for the ball cap amidst the other people inside. Nervously, she hugged the headphones to her chest and stepped closer to the door, pressing her hand to the glass. She saw him again, sitting in an armchair in the corner, looking especially bored as the others around him played board games or watched TV. Carrie shook her head.

"I don't believe it…"

H.M. Murdock- the man she was watching in the Rec Room of a Psychiatric ward- was a pilot.

Just like her.


	2. Worldly Advice

"_Pito, Pito, colorito- Adonde vas tu, tan bonito_?"

Carrie heaved a sigh and paused in her work to wipe the sweat from her forehead. Outside the Huey, the medial gurney gave a series of terrible squeaks as it took the weight of its current rider, who continued with his Spanish.

"_Voy al cera, Verdadera_…"

His voice was carried across the roof by the wind. Carrie was sure everyone working on the ground could hear him. She forcefully scrubbed at the grating in the back of the chopper, desperate to get rid of the rust. The gurney's wheels continued to squeak and she winced at the sound.

"_Ping, Pong…fuera_!"

The Huey shook slightly after Murdock pushed off of it with his foot, spinning the trolley in circles. Carrie watched him for a moment, shaking her head. It was the fifth time in twenty minutes she had thought about calling the whole thing off, and the fifth time she had convinced herself not to.

He was a _pilot_, and whatever had landed him here in a hospital in the middle of nowhere didn't matter for that very reason. She could learn from him-_wanted _to learn from him- but it was all a matter of getting to know how to talk to him. It seemed like his thoughts went on continuously at break-neck speed, and she had a hell of time trying to keep up.

"Mr. Murdock, I thought you were going to help me." Carrie paused to point at him with the scrub brush. "I got you out of the hospital for awhile and you get to help with the chopper- that was the deal."

Murdock made a move to jump from the gurney, but one of his sneakers caught under the bars.

"I am helping," he insisted, hopping on one foot for balance. "And you don't have to call me 'Mister' all the time. Seriously- it sounds funny."

"Well what do I call you then?" Carrie asked, folding her arms.

He finally freed himself from the gurney and pushed it away. "Murdock works. Everyone I know calls me that, 'cept for the doctors." He tilted his head and flashed his usual grin. "And you sure ain't a doctor, chica."

Carrie smiled and nodded, glancing through the windshield back at the two orderlies standing in front of the emergency door. It hadn't taken a whole lot of convincing for the hospital to allow Murdock to spend the day with her and she suspected they'd all lost patience with him. They told her he was prone to hyperactivity, created imaginary animals and had been known for several escape attempts, along with another list of things she'd since forgotten or put aside. None of that really mattered; it only clouded her judgment of him and that was the last thing she wanted.

As far as she was concerned, all pilots were a little crazy, herself included.

"So what's with 'Carrie', anyway?"

His voice was much closer and she flinched, surprised to now find him sitting in the Huey's cabin, swinging his legs over the side. He picked up a few of the tools in the nearby box and inspected them curiously.

"I'm sorry?"

"Carrie- what's it short for?"

She made a face. "Carolyn. But I hate it."

Murdock flipped a wrench into his hand and frowned at her, though that smirk remained.

"There's nothing more important than a name, kid. Learn to love it."

Carrie avoided his eyes, contemplating those words. Nobody had ever said anything like that to her, and it was cause for consideration. She would have said something in response, but the Huey shook again and she watched with wide eyes as Murdock clambered up on top of the helicopter, kicking his legs as he went. Carrie jumped out of the cabin and spun around to watch him, squinting in the sun.

"It's quite possible this thing is one of the last to survive all that crap in El Salvador a few years back," Murdock explained, sitting cross legged. He pointed to the rotors and tapped them with the wrench. "Which means her wings are close to clipped. You can spend all the time you want trying to scrub off every inch of rust, but I got news for you- looks ain't as important as these."

Carrie pursed her lips and tossed the scrub brush back into the cabin. She put her hands on her hips and looked up at him again, still squinting. Murdock smiled at her as the wind snapped at his blue and yellow Hawaiian shirt. He beckoned for her to climb up beside him with the wrench.

"She isn't your baby unless you want to take care of her, chica."

Carrie narrowed her eyes. "I've run the chopper before. The rotors are good."

Murdock flattened himself against the top of the helicopter and leaned forward to speak to her, his voice hushed.

"But you aren't _listening_ to them. Of course they sound good to untrained ears."

Carrie frowned at him as he straightened back up. He motioned with the wrench again and she sighed, walking up to the Huey to find a proper foothold. As she climbed, she asked him,

"Did they teach you this in the 101st, Murdock?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Some things you have to learn on your own."

Carrie slipped on the way up and almost cracked her chin on the corner, but Murdock grabbed her arm and helped her up the rest of the way. She sat beside him, hugging her knees, watching as he scrambled toward the rotor mast and inspected it, assessing whatever damage needed to be fixed.

"Because our gorgeous rust bucket is so old, I'd say the vibration levels are a bit tougher compared to one that's in good condition…am I right?" he asked.

Carrie nodded, deciding to ignore the fact he'd said 'our' instead of 'your' in reference to the Huey. "Yeah. It feels like you're sitting right on top of the engine. It's pretty distracting, trying to fly when your teeth keep rattling in your head."

"I'm used to that," Murdock laughed, running a hand along one of the red and white painted rotors. "I had to fly a chopper once that was right off the repair line- and that baby shimmied like a leaf. My co-pilot and everyone else tossed their cookies after we landed."

He scooted across the roof to the tail beam, pushing on it with his feet as if to assess the strength. The Huey bucked slightly and Carrie had to grab the jamb of the cabin to keep her balance. She scowled.

"Be careful, Murdock! I don't want the tail falling off!"

"Take it easy, kid. I know what I'm doing."

_I sincerely hope so_…

She watched with a pained expression as he hit the tail beam again with his fist, pressing an ear to the steel. Thankfully, it was the last of the pounding and he straightened back up, his sneakers squeaking against the roof. He reached for the wrench again and another hot wind swept across the valley, rustling his hair. Carrie frowned once she caught sight of a tattoo plastered to his right bicep. She couldn't help smiling, having not considered Murdock the kind of guy to have one.

"What's that?"

"Hm?" He followed her gaze down to his arm and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, that. Yeah- I got that baby slapped on there just before Desert Storm. Alcohol may have been a factor."

Murdock granted her a wink, and moved to slide off the roof, but Carrie grabbed his arm,

"Wait- that says 'Ranger.'" She rolled up his sleeve and studied the mark, looking at the detail of the wings, parachute and combat knife. "Oh my God- you're an airborne Ranger?"

Murdock shrugged, laughing at her apparent astonishment. Carrie gazed at him, an expression of pure disbelief across her face. She let go of his arm once she realized she was still holding on to it and allowed him to slide from the Huey back to solid ground. Carrie could only stare at him; she had the sneaking suspicion he was used to this kind of reaction and didn't mind it one bit.

"I _was_, chica," Murdock told her, "Key phrase right there."

There was a hint of regret to his voice and it made her wish she hadn't overreacted. But that smile remained on his face, and he waved for her to come down from the Huey. He nodded to the fuel tanks.

"C'mon. Let's see what kind of juice she's been drinkin'."

They spent the rest of the day inspecting the helicopter, and it seemed to pass Murdock's expectations. Carrie could tell he admired it as much as she did, and wondered when he'd last been around a chopper, much less flown one. She still couldn't get over the fact he was a Ranger, and suddenly found all sorts of questions bubbling into her thoughts, but convinced herself not to ask them. There was a time and a place for everything, so she'd been told.

She was disappointed when the orderlies arrived to take him back inside.

"Hey, you don't mind if I take these with me?"

Murdock held up her headphones and shook them for emphasis. Carrie smirked.

"Take 'em."

He grinned and secured them on his head, careful not to crush the ball cap. Flashing a thumbs-up sign, he turned and left with both orderlies, who looked at Carrie almost confusedly before leading Murdock away. She watched them disappear down the staircase into the hospital-hearing the pilot singing all the way- and sighed.

"Oh, Murdock…what are you doing here?"

The door snapped closed, leaving her question unanswered.


	3. Little Box

**Author's Note: I'd love for feedback on this chapter especially, since it's from Murdock's pov, and I'd just like for opinions on it. ;) But reading it is more important... I'm gone. haha.**

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His ears were still ringing, even after two days. He managed to tune it out after awhile, but the quiet of Dr. Cortez's office made it noticeable again. Murdock fidgeted where he sat in effort to ignore the faint pinging, tapping his shoes on the floor. That was another thing- sitting still for a couple hours. Talking he had no problem with, but not doing anything, that was obnoxious. At least when he talked to Carrie, they were fixing the Huey. But Murdock had been allowed to wear his ball cap and aviator sunglasses for the session, so he figured he owed the Doc a bit of cooperation.

He sat behind his desk, notepad in hand, and Murdock had made himself comfortable in the squishy leather chair against the wall. It struck him odd that the rest of the hospital was painted in bright pastel greens and blues, but the Doc's office stayed the same drab grey. The weird thread rugs and dull gold plaques hanging on the walls only added to the oddness of it all.

"Now, Mr. Murdock, I'm sure you know why they requested you speak to me two weeks ahead of schedule…"

He frowned, tilting his head. "This is because of the whole ambulance thing, isn't it?"

"Yes," Dr. Cortez replied with a careful nod, "That is exactly why. Would you mind explaining to me _why_ you attempted to jumpstart the vehicle?"

Murdock leaned back in the chair and sighed, rubbing his hands on his slacks. He shrugged, waving his hand dismissively.

"I was trying to get out."

"And is there a reason for that? For you wanting to leave?"

Murdock could think of a few reasons, but he didn't say it. He liked the Doc, most of the time- he treated him like a grown man, where as several nurses talked to him like he was a kid, and the only thing he could get out of the orderlies was a scowl. But he realized he had to be careful with his answer.

"It just seemed like a good idea at the time."

Dr. Cortez gave him a crooked glance, but scribbled something on the note pad all the same. Murdock folded an arm behind his head and sighed again, his gaze drifting to the window. Outside, the sun had already bathed the desert in a hot yellow glow, and he could see clouds of dust curling into the air from various cars. He scratched at his ear, still annoyed by the distant ringing.

"A few of the nurses told me you have not been taking your medicine."

Murdock was quiet for a moment, amused at the fact they had only just realized he'd been spitting out his pills. Dr. Cortez waited patiently for an answer, one black, bushy eyebrow arched.

"You know I always take my meds," Murdock said, "Lupe just has it out for me."

Cortez smiled once, though briefly, and continued with his scribbling. Murdock drummed his fingers on the chair and squirmed uncomfortably against the leather. The picture frames on the desk suddenly rattled; his ears caught a distant sound and a smile came to his face once he recognized it. The staccato _thump-thump-thump_ of the Huey was like his favorite song- distinct, uplifting and pretty close to beautiful.

Murdock continued to squirm in his seat, stifling a laugh once he saw the black shadow of the chopper sweep across the front yard. He and Carrie had fixed it a few weeks ago, just before he decided to jumpstart the ambulance, and he'd watched her fly several times from his room on the ground floor. She was pretty good- better than he'd first thought.

"That reminds me…" The Doc's voice broke into his thoughts and Murdock turned to face him. "Our helicopter pilot, Miss Reynolds- I'd like to know more about your opinion of her, if I could."

Murdock wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms, slumping down further in the seat. Cortez noticed the change in body language and frowned curiously. Murdock cleared his throat.

"I, uh, I don't really think it's that big a deal."

He didn't want to talk about Carrie; she didn't belong in the same context as the Doc, let alone the same sentence. She was safe, free of judgment, and her actions didn't have double meanings like everything else discussed in these sessions. But Cortez insisted…

"She's a friend, Doc. If she needs help, I'm glad to offer it." Murdock sighed, propping his foot up on his knee. He thought for a moment and let out a short laugh. "She's still a kid, y'know?"

Cortez nodded, continuing to write. "She is a pilot, too, Mr. Murdock. And I find it interesting that your escape attempt correlates with her leaving the hospital for a few days."

He rolled his eyes behind the aviators, glad the Doc couldn't see. Now he was anxious to leave, seeing as how the Huey was back, sitting pretty on the roof once again. The rotors probably hadn't even stopped spinning yet…

"Coincidence, Doc," Murdock finally said, "I'd just been lullin' you to sleep lately- figured I had to do something to give us a little to talk about."

Cortez managed a laugh. "Duly noted. Well…I think we are finished for today- you may go."

Those were his favorite words to hear. Murdock scrambled out of the chair and bounded for the door. Nobody gave him much of a hassle as he walked back through the hospital to head for the roof; his punishment had been lifted and he could visit with Carrie again. He met up with the orderlies at the bottom of the stairs and waved to them.

"Afternoon, muchachos. Did you miss me?"

He expected the strange looks from them, but smiled at any rate. Murdock went up the staircase ahead of them and pushed open the door, where a hot pool of sunlight washed over him. The stale air-conditioned air gave way to an earthy, dusty smell that came up from the desert. Murdock went on ahead, grinning at the sight of the Huey, his shoes crunching on the gravel as he went. He could see Carrie on the helipad tying up the laces on her boots, strands of blonde hair hanging into her face.

"_Buenas tardes, chica_!" Murdock called.

She looked up at the sound of his voice and smiled, though she seemed surprised to see him. Murdock took off his hat and bowed to her as he walked, happy to hear a distant giggle. For a moment, it looked as though she might embrace him, but thought better of it; she reached out to squeeze his wrist instead.

"Murdock- what are you doing up here? Shouldn't you be…in bed? They told me you tried to jumpstart an ambulance…"

"-With a defibrillator," he added helpfully.

Carrie laughed in spite of herself and Murdock shrugged, smirking.

"I've gotten worse shocks than that on purpose. I was only out for a week because they made me." He jerked his head to the chopper. "She sounds really good- you tinkered with the engine like I told you to, huh?"

Carrie shook her head, looking him up and down briefly as if to make sure he was alright. She glanced back at the Huey and nodded in reply.

"Yes- and I listened to the rotors, too."

Murdock had to laugh. "Now you just have to start talking to your tools."

They headed to the chopper and he could smell the sharp odors of fuel and grease. It took him right back to the hangars in flight school and the makeshift LZs in Kuwait; he pressed his palm to the nose of the Huey to feel the heat from the engine, hardly aware that Carrie was watching him. He looked over at her, his hand still against the steel. She laughed.

"Jeez. Somebody missed this baby."

Murdock smirked, letting his hand slide from the hull. "I miss flying, that's all…"

He wiped the grease on his t-shirt and Carrie crossed her arms, tilting her head. She arched an eyebrow before hopping into the cabin, retrieving a small parcel from inside.

"Here- I bought it to make you feel better, but since you're the only person I know who can recover from severe electrocution, consider it…a prize or something."

She shook the little box in his vision and Murdock took it almost hesitantly. He looked from it back to her and couldn't help laughing.

"Thanks, I guess…"

He quickly stuffed it away in his pocket, fearful the orderlies would notice. Carrie frowned slightly at his actions, but as always, she never asked what the hell he was doing. He liked that about her- she took everything in stride. Murdock hadn't had a pilot to talk to in years, and sitting on the roof discussing rate of climb, cruise speed and other helicopter types was a fine break from throwing checkers across the room in the Rec Hall. The hospital used to be comfortable- free room and board, and all that. But now it was safe, boring…

Carrie was interesting- fresh out of college and optimistic. Murdock liked having that last trait, and it had manifested itself in the form of the Huey and its current pilot.

But he'd never tell the Doc that.

Carrie wished him well as he trudged back down the stairs into the hospital for the night, waving to her from behind the bulky frames of the orderlies. Murdock waited until he was in the safety of his room before he pulled out the little parcel she'd given him and pawed at the wrapping. Outside, the crickets were chirping relentlessly and managed to mask the sound of shredding paper. He sat cross legged on the bed and popped the lid off the box. For a moment, he stared at the contents before reaching inside.

Murdock held up the Die-cast, matchbox-sized helicopter toy and laughed, flicking the plastic rotors with his fingers.

The attached note read: '_So you don't have to think about stealing mine_.'


	4. Crazy's a Relative Term

**Author's note: Just a quick little head's up. I'd appreciate opinions on this chapter as well, just because it took awhile and I don't want ti to fall into cutesy territory. haha. Let me know if it does. Well, please enjoy. :D**_

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_Room number 8 was at the end of the hall, off by itself and separated from the rest. Yellow sunlight flooded through the wired window; a squared shadow had appeared across the linoleum tiles, and inside a voice was loudly singing "Malaguena Salerosa."

Carrie giggled as Murdock shouted the next line of lyrics. Beside her, the nurse heaved a sigh. She rapped her knuckles on the door and the singing presently stopped.

"_Señor_ Murdock, Miss Reynolds is here to see you."

Carrie peeked through the window to catch a glimpse of him and she could tell he'd been jumping on his bed. The soundproof headphones were pressed over his ears and the cord whirled around him as he turned. His eyes met hers and he hopped off the bed. He pressed himself up to the door and turned to the nurse.

"Guess we part ways for the day, Lupe my dear."

She scowled. "Do not try my patience, _Señor_."

Carrie exchanged a strange look with him as Lupe went to open the door. Murdock puckered his lips and made an obnoxious kissing sound.

"Aw, c'mon, you know you love me. '_Que eres linda y hechicera_' and all that."

Carrie bit her lip to hide a smile, adjusting the strap of her pack. Lupe simply grunted, sneering at Murdock before the door groaned open. He snatched his ball cap from the bed and shuffled out into the hallway, passing it to Carrie as he struggled to get the headphones off. The two of them headed back through the hospital, and she studied the cap thoughtfully, running her fingers over the screaming eagle logo on the front.

"I ever tell you she hates me?"

Carrie looked over her shoulder at Lupe, who was muttering to herself in Spanish as they walked away. She shook her head.

"No. Why would anyone hate you, Murdock?"

He traded the headphones for his baseball hat and tucked it back on to his head. Carrie stuffed the headset in her backpack as they walked.

"Well…she didn't know that I could speak Spanish, and one day I heard her call me something nasty." Murdock looked over at her and smirked. "So I graciously returned the favor."

Carrie laughed. "I'll bet it was priceless."

"Sure was! Course, it doesn't help that she _does_ look like a freaking burro, anyway."

Carrie barely managed to hold back a guffaw and Murdock snickered.

"Oh, come on. She must secretly like you," the former squeaked, trying desperately to keep a straight face.

Murdock shuddered. "Oh, no. That's a no-fly zone if you catch my drift."

Carrie cackled so loudly several doctors and orderlies turned to stare at her incredulously. Murdock shook his head, but still grinned as they pushed open the door leading outside. The summer heat washed over them and they squinted against the glare of the sun. Carrie was still laughing when the door closed behind them and they'd walked past the rows of dormant ambulances.

"Jeez, kid- you've got one hell of a laugh."

Carrie snorted and wiped the tears from her eyes, still smiling. She would have been embarrassed if she'd been with anyone else but Murdock; it would be awhile before she could walk through the hospital without getting a strange look. Pressing a hand to her belly, she attempted to catch her breath once again, but couldn't get his voice out of her head and giggled uncontrollably.

"It was just the way you said it…the look on your face-!"

They skirted the side of the hospital and started forward across the hills where the small lake waited for them. A pair of orderlies walked a good distance behind, ever-vigilant, arms crossed. Carrie glanced once at them over her shoulder and sighed.

"Don't you ever get sick of them?"

Murdock shrugged. "Not really. After awhile, I start to think of 'em like trees y'know? They don't talk, they stay put and they're just _there_."

Carrie smirked. Her shoes finally hit grass instead of dirt and the breeze brought with it the sweet smell of the little trees surrounding the lake. She led Murdock to the other side, where they could sit on a small ledge facing the hospital and still be in the sight of the orderlies. She pointed.

"See? You can still see her from here."

Murdock followed her gaze and smirked at the sight of the Huey parked on the helipad, rotors slowly turning in the wind. He flopped in the dirt at the edge of the lake and wrapped his arms around his knees, squinting up at the chopper. Carrie shrugged off her backpack, looking out across the lake. The water was deep and clear, perfectly reflecting the sky; sunlight rippled along the waves.

"Y'know they don't let us go swimming?" Carrie sat down beside Murdock and he looked over at her with a frown. "It's stupid. I've always wanted to jump in this lake, soon as I found out there was one here."

Carrie had finished rummaging through her back pack and pulled out two glass bottles, one of which she passed to Murdock. She couldn't help laughing at his surprised expression.

"When was the last time you had an ice cold Pepsi?"

She twisted the cap off of hers and he followed suit, both of the bottles hissing at the same time. Murdock took a swig and drained half the bottle; Carrie merely watched, her question now answered.

"It ain't a beer, chica, but it's almost as good," Murdock finally gasped.

She smiled from behind her bottle. They sat in silence for awhile, drinking the last of the soda and staring back at the hospital. Carrie had to admit, something about it looked different from farther away.

A breeze snapped at their clothes and she squinted as puffs of dust and grass curled into the air behind them. Murdock sighed and leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. He pulled the ball cap over his eyes and wiggled his feet back and forth. Carrie hung her head and picked at the laces of her boots.

"Murdock…"

"What's up?" he replied, lazily.

"Can I ask you a question?"

He smirked. "Sure you can, even if you just asked me one."

Carrie managed a light laugh and paused before continuing, now hesitant. She didn't want to offend him, or worst of all, lose him as a friend. But there was still a part of her that wondered, that needed to know…

"Well, uhm…are you…really crazy?"

She winced, knowing there wasn't an easier way to say it. Murdock's grin faded just slightly, but he laughed. He pushed the hat up to his forehead and propped himself up on his elbows.

"Is that all?"

Carrie nodded, surprised at his reaction. Murdock raised his eyebrows and watched the sunlight ripple on the lake.

"It's a fair question, chica." He turned and looked at her complacently. "But what kind of crazy are we talkin'?"

She stared at him, unsure how to respond. Murdock let out a short sigh, scrambling to sit up. He pointed at her with his empty Pepsi bottle.

"Lemme rephrase that. There's crazy, like totally and completely can't function crazy, and then there's pilot crazy. You should know about that. We've all got to cope with our inner Yossarian and from time to time he gets us in trouble." He paused to sweep his arm toward the hospital and smirked. "Such is my predicament."

Carrie smiled. "Yossarian," she repeated, "You've read _Catch-22_?"

"'Course I have, but that was a long time ago. What landed me here, though…" Murdock sighed and trailed off, seemingly to gather his thoughts.

"You don't have to tell me, really," Carrie said, almost apologetically.

"No, no it's okay." Murdock shook his head, tearing up a long blade of grass and twisting it in his fingers. He squinted thoughtfully. "Have you ever heard of the elusive Iraqi Lemming?"

Carrie wasn't sure whether or not to laugh. "Can't say that I have."

"Neither did the field doctors in Kuwait. I ran up and down the LZ screaming the helicopters were going to crush all these little Lemmings and they accused me of being nuts. It took awhile before they made that official, but I made sure I proved it to 'em." Murdock elbowed her arm teasingly. "I guess all that paperwork takes forever to file."

Carrie giggled and nodded. She was pretty damn sure Lemmings couldn't live in the desert, but didn't press the matter any further. Her grin widened and she nodded again.

"So if you ask them, I am crazy. But only on paper," Murdock added with a wink.

He had made a bow out of the blade of grass and tossed it into the lake, rolling to his feet to stand up. He stretched and walked behind Carrie, rolling his shoulders. She looked back at the hospital, at the two orderlies in the distance watching them, and laughed. Murdock's voice called back to her as she stood to her feet.

"I don't know about you, chica but I get pretty bored around here sometimes. I have to get 'em all riled up every now and then. Maybe you can help me next time."

Carrie smirked, brushing the dirt from her slacks. "And how would I do that?"

She hadn't seen him struggling to take off his shoes and socks. Behind her, Murdock tossed aside his ball cap and started toward her at a sprint.

"Hold your breath!" he cackled.

Carrie frowned. "What?"

She turned just in time to see his grinning face before he held out his arms and shoved her from the ledge into the lake. Carrie shrieked and the two of them hit the water with a spectacular splash. The water was surprisingly cold despite the glare of the sun; Carrie surfaced first, sputtering, her bangs plastered to her forehead. Murdock appeared beside her not long after, laughing. He shook his head side to side to get the hair out of his eyes and it stood on-end. Carrie coughed as Murdock whooped.

"What was that for?" the former gasped, attempting to punch his arm.

"Aw, don't be mad at me, now. I can't take you seriously anyway; you look like a sheepdog with all that hair."

Carrie had to laugh at that, trying to push back her hair so she could see. Murdock chuckled and flopped back into the water, backstroking past her. In all actuality the water felt good and they bobbed in the lake for awhile, almost oblivious to the fact the orderlies were rushing over to see what had happened. They skidded to a halt at the water's edge, panting.

"What happened? Is everyone alright?"

Murdock popped up from under the water and waved to them. "Hey fellas! I was aiming for the raft, but I guess I missed it."

Carrie giggled and glanced over at him, and they exchanged a knowing smile.

"We both did."


End file.
